


hybristophilia

by PikaCheeka



Category: DRAMAtical Murder (Visual Novel)
Genre: Hybristophilia, M/M, Violent Sex, Voyeurism, dubcon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-02
Updated: 2018-04-02
Packaged: 2019-04-17 05:47:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14182179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PikaCheeka/pseuds/PikaCheeka
Summary: Virus really didn’t want to know this much about himself, but he can no longer resist the temptation. He and Trip try to figure out what makes him tick.(standalone sequel to "the things one learns about oneself")





	hybristophilia

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is actually a sequel to “the things one learns about oneself”, though it works as a standalone, too (that fic is summarized here in flashbacks, and it’s pretty simple). I wrote that first fic with the original intention of it being longer, but it took me a while to decide where I wanted to go with it. My 40th ViTri fic!

"Were you really kidding?"          

"What are you talking about?"

He acts casual, crossing his ankles on Trip's shoulder before speaking. A couple of weeks ago he’d watched Trip kill a man, and then the younger man had turned on him, a leonine ease to his step, and calmly said he probably wouldn’t ever kill him, but he might rape him. He’d kissed him then, thrown him against a wall and lifted him off the ground and whispered that he wanted him, only to back off and say it was all a joke. He’d just done it to get a rise out of him. "When you said you wanted to fuck me."

"I said I was kiddin."

"Yes. But you're a bit of a liar when you think you're in trouble."

He knows the exact expression Trip is making despite only looking at the back of his head. That guilty eye dart to the side, almost always to the right, before lowering his gaze. The same expression he's been making ever since they met, probably his entire life. Trip only ever thinks he's in trouble with Virus, because he doesn't care enough about anyone else to even blink when lying through his teeth.

"You can be honest."

"I think about it sometimes." 

 _Of course you do._ "What times?"

"Uhm..." he breathes in deeply only to sigh loudly. "Just when you make certain faces or noises. Or I smell you just right. I get bored in bed some nights, gotta think of something different and you come up."

Virus curls his toes further with every statement and bites his lower lip. Unexpected. That sounds like more than sometimes. It makes him uneasy. "What faces and noises?"

"When you're scared. Your little distressed face." He clears his throat loudly, a sound unexpectedly attractive. "S'cute."

"What noises?"

"Ahhh. Nope." He laughs then. "That one is just for me. Why you asking anyway?"

"I'm curious. That was kind of fun the other night, hm?"

"You were hard."

"So were you," he shoots back, but he's pleased now. He noticed. And even as he thinks it, he knows how stupid it is. How could he not have noticed?

"Was it because of the kill or the kiss?"

"Not sure. Probably both." _But it better be the kill._

Trip glances up at the ceiling. "Want to try?"

"Yes." He says it before he can stop himself, and once he opens his mouth he couldn’t stop even if he wanted to. "It's weird we haven't tried before, isn't it? We've been living on top of each other for most of our lives."

"That's probably why. Too obvious." He still won't make eye contact.

He pushes him, further than he'd normally go on any given day, but after that suggestion of sex, he supposes this is a less shocking barrier to break. He rubs his teeth with his index finger and smiles, "Maybe we just irritate one another too much."

Trip is silent.

Virus gives him another few seconds, making sure he doesn't simply have one of his trademark delayed responses, before knocking his foot into his face. He feels, hears, his ankle connecting with Trip's cheekbone. _Pay attention._

The reaction is immediate, just as he suspects it will be. Trip has always been one to react physically and not verbally, social cues lost on him but belligerent and sexual ones all he is aware of. Like a dog. At least he does some things that are demanded of him. He almost purrs in satisfaction, anticipation, as Trip turns on him, spins around and crouches.

They lunge for one another at the same moment, tangling fingers in hair and stroking cheeks, digging nails into the backs of necks and sinking teeth into lips. It's abrupt and messy and desperate, but it feels good, unbearably good, and Virus wonders why they haven't done this sooner, even before Trip had kissed him last time. _Because it's too obvious. Can it really only be that?_

He remembers Trip killing that man before him, his boredom, his casual behavior, the simplicity in his viciousness, the way he grinned at him afterwards, threatened him, slammed him against the wall and kissed him. It's different now, consensual, on a couch as opposed to against a brick wall. But he's still too strong for him, too rough, too controlling, as he slides his hands down Virus' back and grabs his ass, squeezes and massages him just a little too hard until he knows there will be bruises. _Not that it matters if he’s really going to fuck me, bruise me on the inside._ He squirms uncomfortably, nervously, but the feeling somehow excites him. This is fun. They both realize that quickly enough as they roll their hips together, press their bodies together and bite and suck. Virus laughs first, and Trip is quick to follow. They have to stop occasionally, come up for air to gasp and laugh again.

"Not a bad kisser," the younger man mutters.

He runs his fingers through Trip's hair and down the side of his face, gently pressing against his mouth. The younger man slips his hands up and over his hips, strokes his torso in response, as Virus writhes beneath him. _Bruise me on the inside._ "This is weird."

"Definitely." He shows a lot of teeth when he grins. "You hard?"

He grunts, pushes his hips forward into Trip's hand, now positioned over his crotch. The intimacy had been fun, amusing, something different to switch up the routine, but not arousing. _Maybe because he hasn't killed anyone. Or maybe because I wasn't against a wall. Maybe because he wasn't threatening me_. He doesn't want to think that thought any further. "Just a little. Not enough."

"You should relax."

He doesn't like Trip knowing he's tense. _But I am tense. We’re both tense. This is a mess. We shouldn’t be doing this._ But he knows they’re going to do it. Impulses are what they thrive on.  "Don't you like me scared?"

"Scared, yea. Nervous, no. Jes makes me nervous."

"Huh," Virus bites into his lower lip, kisses him again.

Trip responds in turn for a good few minutes before he leans back, wipes the saliva off his face. "It's not gonna work this way. What worked before?"

Virus immediately follows suit. "You drool a lot," and then, "I think it was watching you kill someone."

"That's a lotta work."

He sits back against the pillows and sighs. He wants to get off now, needs to. "Maybe it will work if you just scare someone."

Trip taps his lips, thinking. "We should pick up a girl. They’re easier to freak out. Not kill her but scare the shit out of her. Think that'll work?"

His stomach lurches. _A girl._ He likes watching Trip with girls. Likes how slow, assertive, controlling he is. Likes the way he invariably makes girls trembling and desperate, small and slim against him. Trip likes girls, likes them a lot, and Virus likes watching him enjoy himself. "We should find one who fits my type too."

"You up for doing sex a few times in a row then? Thought you needed drugs to do that."

He shrugs. He can go twice. He just can’t go all night like Trip can. Their preferences are too different, anyway. "I don't have the same stamina as you, you brute. I can manage that though. It's a different enough situation."

"What should I do?"

"Just do whatever you want with her. Make her think you're going to kill or rape her or something."

"Want me to find someone on one ah my forums?

He startles, though he isn't sure why. He'd always known that Trip met most of his fucks online. It took less flirtation, fewer social skills. He didn't have to try as hard. Virus at once understood and didn't understand it. Trip can have women wet with only a glance; it seems like it would be more work to meet people online who he at least has to talk to. "What forums?"

"Like. Strugglefuck and rapekink and shit."

He doesn't know what he expected. "Is that what you do online? Roleplay?"

He grins crookedly. "There are a lot of girls into it, you know.... Lots of moms in their 40s."

"You know what. I don't even want to know. Let's get a normal person who will actually be scared. Not a crazy mother."

-

Trip grabs him in the doorway, shoves him against the wall and leans on him with his full weight. It's only a few seconds, but it's enough for Virus to tremble. And then he's backing off, opening the door to the apartment and stepping out. Virus rearranges his jacket quickly, pulls it down to hide his nascent erection. He’s grateful he dressed up for the night, but not grateful for his tight pants. _It's not him hurting me, not him dominating me, that I like. It's seeing him hurt someone else. It’s him causing pain and fear that I can witness and vicariously live through._ He swallows and takes a moment to breathe before following the younger man.

-

"What's he doing?" She whispers, whimpers, gestures wildly at Virus to distract him. She's pretty, but more Trip's type than his own. Somewhere between their ages, with thighs a little too soft for Virus’ taste but a nice belly and a cute face. They'd first seen her in a bar, out with her girlfriends, picked her out and bided their time with alcohol while they waited for her to leave. They’d whispered about what they’d do to her, about the sale of drugs in that particular neighborhood, about what restaurants would be open for takeout at two in the morning, anything to keep them from thinking about what they’d do with one another. Trip had sidled up to her when her group dispersed, offered to walk her home, and she'd stupidly obliged. Though Virus isn't sure he would do anything different if he were a woman. Trip's smile was difficult to ignore, and he was soft-spoken and could come across as unexpectedly gentle when he wanted to. More innocent women didn't notice the menace simmering just below his skin. He'd chloroformed her at the first darkened overpass, startling Virus with his viciousness. _You want her really scared, yea?_ He'd shrugged, wondering if this was the sort of thing Trip had experience in. It’s a lot more criminal, crueler than he expects, and it excites him. _Hybristophilia_. And now they sit in a hotel, an unnecessarily large suite but if Trip picked the girl, Virus picked the room.

"He's gonna watch. Then fuck you too. Ever been double-teamed?"

She makes a panicked sound but doesn’t resist as Trip shoves her down, pushes her onto her face and pulls her hips up and towards him.

Virus settles into the pillows and grins, eyes narrowed and self-satisfied. He should do this more often, tell Trip to hurt someone sexually and tag along behind him. Because Trip is very good at what he does. He wonders absently if he will actually rape her before going after him, hopes he will save some energy if he does. He’s seen Trip fuck others plenty of times, engaged in threesomes with him often enough, but seeing him take someone by force is always thrilling. He's already stripping her, at least enough to get what he needs to out of the way, skirt hiked up and panties ripped down. Like Virus, Trip likes his clothed sex. Prefers keeping distance between himself and anyone else, other humans. Their lives have been a series of walls and barriers.

Trip leans back on his heels then. "Okay, okay. Get in the bathroom."

She flinches at the same time Virus perks up despite the disappointment that he might not rape her after all, at the hostility in his voice, the fear in hers as she whimpers. "What?"

"Get. In. The. Bathroom. Want some privacy with you." That singsong voice again. Virus knows girls find it cute until they’re alone with him, and she is no different.

She makes a panicked sound and looks over at Virus, desperate, imploring. It’s such a satisfying gaze that maybe he can forgive the extra weight on the thighs.

"I'm not getting in his way," he shrugs, but he's squeezing his legs together now. Her fear is palpable, even greater than the fear he himself felt when Trip had him cornered. It's drawing him in, burning up his insides. They really need to do this more often. Watching Trip in his element is better than watching porn. He suddenly remembers the delight he used to feel when they were children, when Trip would lash out at other kids in the facility. Not arousal, exactly, but amusement, intrigue, excitement. It was thrilling, titillating somehow.

And then Trip is shoving her towards the bathroom, pushing so forcefully she stumbles, and he flashes a glance at Virus over his shoulder and winks in that way of his, corner of his mouth tugging upwards and revealing his canine. "Close your eyes and just listen. Jerk off a bit to get started." He slams the door behind him, flicking the light off in the bedroom as he goes.

 _Unexpected_. Virus jolts upright at the sudden darkness before settling back into the pillows, eyes narrowed as he adjusts to the dark. They can't see in the dark any better than other humans, but their eyes glow faintly, giving off the illusion that they can. He doesn’t like the dark; neither of them do, but he isn’t about to get up and fumble for the light switch, so he merely sighs and obeys. He rolls onto his side, crosses his legs and hums softly at the pressure in his belly. He doesn't want to touch himself, wants to save that for Trip, wants to let it all build until it's unbearable. _Maybe the dark will help._ Because the dark makes him wary. But it only makes things worse, auditory sensations magnifying at the expense of his sight. He can hear them, hear her whimpering, sobbing, hear him cooing softly to her, hear the sudden slap of flesh on flesh. It quickly becomes unbearable.

He fingers himself then, an experience he's tried occasionally in the past. He'd even used toys, Herscha's tail. He knows where his prostate is, not that he would ever tell Trip that. He'd call him a whore, a faggot, and probably act weird around him for a while. Even if Virus had never been fucked before, it would be difficult to convince Trip, to live it down. He'll have to act surprised if he hits him in the right place. The thought of the younger man inside of him makes him shudder. He'd never willingly imagined they'd fuck, much less plan it out ahead of time, go three or four hours of their lives knowing it would go in that direction. He's suddenly nervous; they'd been so intent on plotting everything out, finding a girl they both liked, that Virus hadn't had time to stop and really think about it. He's going to take him the way he almost did with that girl, the way he might be fucking her right now. He crooks his finger and groans. He remembers the time that he’d found a bolt cutter in Trip’s room, and the younger man had only shrugged and said it was a good multi-purpose weapon. Good for cutting off fingers and cracking skulls. Virus never figured out if he’d been joking or not. Trip was fifteen at the time.

And then something's hitting him from behind with enough force to roll him, slam his elbow into the nightstand by the bed and push his finger in far too deeply. He nearly shrieks at the pain, jerking his hand away as fast as he can, kicking at the weight bearing down on him.

"You turned on now?" That self-satisfied purr.

"Damn it, Trip!" He hisses. He is turned on, but he's bleeding now and he very nearly pissed himself too. It isn't a pleasant combination. And having been taken by surprise isn’t so pleasant either. "I thought you..."

"I told her to just scream and cry a little bit. Figured you'd be too distracted to resist. But not even paying attention...you’re worse ‘n I thought," he laughs.

Clever. He'd never underestimated Trip's intelligence, unlike most people they've met, but he can never decide if he should be pleased or irritated when that cleverness is turned against him. The younger man's full weight is on him, pushing his face down into the mattress while dragging his hips up. The same position he'd placed the girl in when he'd finger-fucked her. The thought makes him hot, thrilled and nervous all at once. Not quite scared, but excited nonetheless. He suddenly remembers the fleshy sounds. "Was she hitting herself?"

"Ahh, yep. She's into it."

"Jesus, you know how to pick them, don't you?"

"I picked her 'cause she had a little ita bag with visual novel characters... She's a pervert." He snorts and grabs his hand, studies the smear of blood, then immediately rips his pants down. "You fingered yourself already, hm?"

Virus can only nod, because Trip's already inside of him, two fingers penetrating him savagely with no warning. He'd already coated them in lube, probably before he even left the bathroom, but it isn't enough. _At least I already prepared myself, at least I was the one to rip myself open._ He's too rough, and he lets out a whimper before he can stop himself.

"Struggle more, you dumb bitch," Trip grabs his shoulders, pulls him up and slams him back down into the bed. "Thought you wanted it like this. Rape."

Outrage over being insulted is immediately swallowed by a wave of fear. _He’s confusing me with the girl. He’s confused, too horny to even notice._ And… _Did I say that? What do I want anyway?_ "Never said that. I. Like seeing you hurt people. Not me." He can’t form a sentence.

He isn't listening. "Probably makes it easier, being fucked like a whore. If you pretend it's rape. Buuuut," he's almost singing the next words as he scissors his fingers and viciously fucks him with them. "You already admitted to wanting it. Weird situation." And then he's positioning himself.

He bites into the sheets, fingers twisting and toes curling as Trip shoves into him. It hurts, that burning being shoved through his body. Trip's big, hard and heavy and hot and in him far too deep. Splitting him in half. It's a pain, a violent itch deep inside of him where nothing should be. An itch he can’t relieve. He's fucking him immediately, making it unnecessarily rough and painful. Or maybe it isn’t unnecessarily. Maybe this is how it always is when Trip fucks someone. When he hurts other people. _Think of everyone else he’s done this to._

"Shit, shit, shit." He finally gasps out. "Slower."

"No," he purrs in his ear, snaps his hips back still more violently. He pushes his shoulders further into the mattress and sinks his teeth into the back of his neck, teeth scraping over his vertebrae, over the scar at the base of his spine where he received hundreds of injections over the years. “You’re so hot inside.”

He opens his mouth again to snap at him, but all that comes out is a whimper. This wasn't a good idea after all. He remembers the fear he'd felt a month ago when he'd watched Trip kill someone, when Trip had shoved him up against the wall and threatened him, wishes he hadn't suggested this when he could have avoided it entirely. He's fucking him far too hard, too excitedly, and the panic is building as Trip abuses him. Grabbing his face, cutting off his air supply and snarling in arousal, jerking him off so aggressively that he will be bruised in the morning.

Virus knows then, knows that Trip really has thought about this regularly, and that given his nature, he’s probably often thought about this violence.

And as if Trip can read his thoughts, "That little noise you jes made. Even better than the one I jerk off to."

"You never," _said what that was_. But he can't get the words out, can't find the air. All he can do is moan, because it's starting to feel good now, through the pain. _This man recently killed someone, just drugged and assaulted someone, and now I’m at his mercy._ He's responding without thinking, pushing his ass up and rolling his hips to meet Trip's thrusts, burying his face in his arms, anticipating the orgasm he now knows is coming. And then it will be over. He doesn’t know if he wants it over. 

Trip rolls onto his back then, pushes himself up until he's half-sitting against the pillows, and Virus rolls with him. He doesn't have enough control over his body to do anything but. Helpless; he's helpless. It's unexpectedly exciting as Trip squeezes his ass, massages his thighs until he adjusts, folds his legs and digs his knees and toes into the mattress for leverage. Their bodies fit well together. He arches his back, leans his head on Trip's shoulder and grabs his ass in return, shoving him still deeper inside. _Just enjoy it while it's happening because it's never going to happen again._

He understands then. It isn’t just Trip hurting others. It’s him hurting anyone, him dominating and controlling anyone. It’s simply Trip being Trip. Committing vicious and brutal acts. _Hybristophilia._

The orgasm takes him hard, snaps through his body and makes him howl as Trip continues to thrust up into him. It's too much, his body too sensitive, but he's weak and disoriented and unable to even protest or lean away from him when Trip comes inside of him a moment later.

But the younger man doesn't wait, isn't limp and helpless after climax because he hasn’t had his innards ripped apart. He pulls him up and off, nearly throws him down onto the mattress as he sucks air and pushes sweat-soaked hair out of his face.

"That was okay. Different."

Virus glances up at him. Okay doesn't begin to cover it. He doesn't know what to think, doesn't know what he feels about this. He shouldn't like being dominated, being fucked in the ass and made to cry by another man. Especially by a younger, less intelligent man, even if he is larger. _It’s only because he’s violent._ He rolls onto his back and nudges Trip's thigh. "Get back down here."

Trip obeys, sliding down in the sheets. Virus shifts his weight, repositions until he's nestled against his shoulder, the younger man's arm loosely around his waist. He's still on fire inside, every point of contact between his skin and Trip's like a second-degree burn. He can't believe they went through with it, can't wrap his mind around how easy it was. How smooth. _We could have done it any time. He could have come into my room any night and I wouldn't have turned him away, not even if he beat and choked and threatened me._

"Ever been fucked before?" he whispers in his ear.

He's slow to respond. _No, no, no you idiot. You know me better than that._ "No."

"I did really think about it a lot. I mean. Fucking you."

"I could tell."

"I'd listen to you jerk off. You make a cute noise. And that noise when you get hit. When we're fighting somebody. A little gasp. You really are cute when you're in pain."

Virus is silent as he traces his finger in aimless circles on Trip's stomach, sweat and come making his skin slick. He remembers the fear, remembers the uncertainty, the realization that Trip might really be violent against him one day, the way that he had locked his bedroom door some nights because he'd been suspicious, worried. Not only of Trip, but of himself. What he himself might do, where his fantasies might take him. Where they already took him. He can still feel Trip inside of him. "Shit," he sighs then.  

"Yea." He's quiet himself for some time before mimicking Virus' sigh. "The girl. Bet she heard everything and she probably got off on it."

"I forgot about her." He says it as if his body and mouth are not his own. Not a good thing to admit; he bites his lip nervously.

"Really now? So you weren't thinking about me hurting someone while we banged."

Virus shrugs, squeezes his legs together. He still feels open. "Hard to think about anything. It's more intense than I thought it would be."

"Thought the sadism was the whole point."

"It got me going," he snaps, sitting upright finally.

"Still wanna do a threesome?"

"I don't know. Maybe we should just to clear things up. Make this a reasonable night. We're never going to talk about this again."

“Okay.” A shrug. He’s always so complicit, so agreeable. Then he takes a deep breath and holds it, eyeing the bathroom door before dropping his gaze. _That guilty look._ “I bet she might wanna talk about it though.”

Virus only groans. “You really do know how to pick them.”

 


End file.
